


Hello, Hogwarts too?

by countingcr0ws



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Auror Harry Potter, Banter, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Epistolary, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter is Obsessed with Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Professors, Humor, M/M, Obsessive Draco Malfoy, Obsessive Harry Potter, Post-Hogwarts, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter, Romantic Soulmates, Sexual Humor, Smitten Harry Potter, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Snarky Harry Potter, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingcr0ws/pseuds/countingcr0ws
Summary: "Hello, Hogwarts too?"Harry is stumped by his first words soulmark. If they don't recognise him, surely they're not from the UK? So he packs up and goes searching.Two jobs and a recurring injury later, he decides to settle down.  Working through his jealousy of his friends, he also reunites with Malfoy, who is now teaching seventh year Potions in Hogwarts.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 113
Kudos: 1163
Collections: A Very Drarry Valentine's Day Exchange





	1. 31 July 1998, Harry is 18

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ausynja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ausynja/gifts).



> The first words in this fic are canon.
> 
> Betaed by [Chris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawkward/pseuds/ravenclawkward). Reviewed by [Linda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindabelinda99/pseuds/lindabelinda99) and [Lep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingd0g/).

At Harry's request, his birthday party would be a simple affair, unlike the boisterous celebrations the rest of the Wizarding world would be having. It was a respite for the Magical community—Kingsley had commenced the war trials after shaking up his cabinet, and the newspapers had been filled with sombre news for months. A break in the tedium to speculate about Harry Potter's _eighteenth_ birthday was a source of great escapism.

Harry himself was cautiously excited for the party. The Weasleys had been weighed down by the sadness from the loss of their son and brother, and he had been surprised that they would be celebrating his birthday at all. It would be nice for the attention he would finally get—Hermione and Ron were celebrating their soulmates status, and he had felt terribly lonely. 

Knowing his luck, he would probably be a worder or end up with something equally nondescript that would make it impossible to identify his soulmate. 

He laid in bed, staring at the clock as he watched the digits creep closer to seven thirteen. The sky was slowly lightening—Sirius had bragged about reaching St. Mungos with Remus on his flying motorcycle in the cover of the night while his mother was in labour, and Harry suddenly wished that he hadn't pushed Ron and Hermione away—it would have been nice to have somebody wait with him like Sirius had promised. He gripped his comforter tightly as the solitude he had previously requested slowly gave way to loneliness. It would get better though. He would find his soulmate and he wouldn't be alone anymore. Harry wiped his eyes fiercely as he glared at the clock impatiently. 

His eyes were blurring when he felt the wards of Grimmauld Place shift. _Bloody hell_ , arguing with Hermione yesterday night had left him feeling too lousy to remember to lock the Floo behind him. _Wouldn't it be funny if he died before he turned eighteen?_ He crept towards the study room, ears pricked and wand in hand. 

Harry shook his head in dark amusement at the easy picking when he heard the intruder walking into the heavy brass stand for fireplace tools. His brows raised when the wards triggered once more and a second voice could be heard scolding their companion. 

Raising his wand higher when the knob turned, Harry slammed the door open, immediately disarming his intruders as he maneuvered the person at the door to a chokehold. He quickly released his hostage when he identified his company. 

"What are you guys doing here," Harry asked as Ron complained, " _Merlin_ , Harry." 

"Your wandless has improved," Hermione commented, rubbing her neck as she waved off his apologies. Harry could only stare uncaringly at the both of them. He didn't want to start another argument, but they would have known about his wandless if they had decided to spare even a bit of time to help rebuild Hogwarts together. 

"Has it come in?" Ron asked as he pointed to his own knee where Hermione's first words to him were written in her frenzied scrawl. 

"Not yet," he shook his head as he tried his best to smile at his friends. He had been missing them, but now that they were here, he was reminded once more that they had coupled off and left him behind. He wished that he could stop being bitter about it. "There's still a bit-" he broke off, groaning as he clutched at the sharp pain that suddenly slammed into him, at the left of his skull. 

"Fuck," he swore, his knees buckling as he fell onto the floor. The pain was excruciating as he thrashed on the carpet. His body was burning, and his bones were trembling as if trying to leap out of him. He was being flayed open, the pain as consuming as Voldemort's Crucio in the graveyard. Shouting incoherently, he tried to fight off the hands that were holding him down. While he wished to pass out, he was suddenly vaguely aware amidst the throes of pain of the small space at his left lower temple where the pain did not touch. Clawing for the harbour in the red haze, he threw himself into it, trying to fit all of his consciousness into the space. The pain immediately evaporated and Harry convulsed on the floor as he lost consciousness. 

\- 

Harry opened his eyes as he shifted in his bed. He squinted at the blob topped with red hair on his right. 

"Hermione says that you shouldn't get up," Ron said as he handed Harry's spectacles over. 

Harry moved his heavy limbs to take it, conscious of the ache in his bones. He blinked as he surveyed the otherwise empty room. "Where's Hermione?" His voice was raspy as he filled a cup with water and brought it to his mouth. He pretended not to notice Ron's eyes tracing the movement of his cup intently, the shock about Harry’s precise wandless magic evident. 

"Library," Ron immediately looked away when he met Harry's eyes. 

Harry nodded as he corroborated the presence he could feel in the third floor. He should really start in the identification wards so that he didn't end up killing someone. 

"She's a bit worried." 

Harry snorted at the understatement. Harry had never heard of a revealing as violent as his own. Ron's soulmark had set in through a week long itch, the skin on his knee giving way to reveal the first words a younger Hermione had spoken to him on the Hogwarts train. 

"What does it say?" Harry asked as he rubbed at his lower temple.

"I didn't look. Figured you'd want to see it first," Ron shrugged as he traced a line down his neck. "Was bleeding quite a bit though. Got onto your pyjamas and all." 

Harry's brows shot up at the information. But it felt fine then—calming even. _What did bloodshed during a reveal mean? Would he and his soulmate be a complete mess?_ Transfiguring the mug into a three-piece mirror, he startled at the sight of his mark. 

"It's red," he exclaimed. 

"No way," Ron replied immediately, twitching in his seat as he tried to suppress the urge to round the bed to look at Harry's mark. "Can't believe your luck, mate." 

Harry stared at the mark in disbelief. While the revealing and position of marks always varied depending on the nature of the couple, almost all marks were black. Red soulmarks were a marker of a couple's intensity, and he had only read about them in works of fiction.

He squinted at the squiggles behind his ear. "It says _'something comma Hogwarts too question mark'_?" His soulmate's handwriting was a ridiculous, traditional cursive that only made everything worse. 

" _'Hello'_ ? I think it's _'Hello, Hogwarts too?'_ Do you think that I'll be posting something to Hogwarts?" He asked as he continued to scrutinise his mark, just to be sure. "How can something this normal be red marked?" 

"I don't know,” Ron shrugged as he brows furrowed in concentration. “Maybe they're a murderer targeting Hogwarts students. That’s red mark worthy alright.". 

Harry dropped the mirror in his hand with a groan. Knowing his luck, that scenario was more likely than a mundane meeting at a post office. 

> **_Description of a photograph in Harry Potter's photo album_ **
> 
> (A three months old Teddy is lying on his back, his chubby limbs flailing as Harry tries to change his diaper. Harry's spectacles are falling off his nose as he bends over Teddy. Teddy kicks his chunky little foot into Harry's throat and Harry's frown dissolves, his eyes crinkling as a smile spreads across his face.)
> 
> Photograph caption: Teddy's second stink bomb for the birthday boy. Happy Eighteenth Birthday Harry!

> **_Hermione Granger's research and notes on Harry Potter's soulmark_ **
> 
> **  
>  <please view image for full size>**
> 
> **Potential topics of paper released after our lifetimes**
> 
>   * prophetic element of red marks
>   * reaction of marks after death
>   * explore of circular reasoning: complexity & red marked 
>   * position of mark v red marked 
> 


> **_List by Harry Potter, with inputs from Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley_ **
> 
> **"Hello, Hogwarts too?"**  
>  Person does not recognise Harry Potter!!!!!!   
> Possibility 1: Something related to Hogwarts  
> 1\. End location   
> \- Travelling   
> \- Post office
> 
> 2\. Purchasing Hogwarts related merchandise  
> Shopkeeper selling Hogwarts and non Hogwarts merchandise 
> 
> Possibility 2: Nothing related to Hogwarts   
> 1\. Code word  
> \- Auror mission overseas (too close to home according to Hermione)  
>   
> 2\. Splitting up into groups and identity is important  
> \- Quidditch overseas??  
> \- Murderer killing Hogwarts students  
> \- Based on accent where I speak first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to put Hermione's research into a table because tables are the nerdiest. Please look at it. 😫


	2. 2 August 2005, Harry is 25

Harry came to consciousness, blinking as he took in the brutal smell of disinfectant. His mouth was dry as he swallowed futilely, his limbs stiff. He reached for his spectacles slowly as he took in the unfamiliar décor of the hospital room.

His chest felt heavy, every breath shallow from exertion. Trying his best to reorder the events that had led to his stay in the hospital, Harry startled when the door to his room flew open. 

"Malfoy," he exclaimed, surprised by the sight of a familiar face. Why was Malfoy working in a foreign hospital? He flailed when he was immediately pressed backwards by a spell. He blinked at Malfoy, finally registering how  _ yellow _ he looked in his medical robes. 

"Don't sit up," Malfoy warned as he shot off a series of diagnostic spells at him. Harry watched as Malfoy frowned at the outcome of the tests before whipping out a Muggle notebook from his mustard coloured robes. 

"Can I leave soon?" Harry asked as Malfoy scribbled furiously with a biro that he had pulled out from the spine of his book. Harry knew that the French wizarding community was a lot more progressive, but the sight of Malfoy so adept with Muggle items still amused him. He flinched when Malfoy slapped his pen down. 

"May I remind you that you were forcefully overdosed with  _ Chasseur _ ?" Malfoy glared at him. "That you had a heart attack and multiple seizures? That your heart had stopped when you arrived? That you have also been asleep for  _ ten  _ days?" Malfoy counted off his fingers as he gestured menacingly at him.

Harry swallowed nervously at the points presented. In his defence, he had not been aware that he had been out for so long. It was just so typical of Malfoy to hold information he was unaware of against him.

"Your chest still hurts, and your heart hasn't fully recovered from the prolonged intake of Chasseur. You're  _ malnourished _ , Potter," Malfoy loomed over him with obvious agitation. 

"Fine,  _ fine _ ," Harry complained as he kicked his legs under the blanket weakly. He wished that he had the strength to swat Malfoy out of his face. "You didn't have to yell,  _ honestly _ ." 

" _ I didn't have to- _ " Malfoy bristled, scoffing as he combed his fringe back in a furious swipe. "Potter, as an Auror sent to bust the ring, you of all people should know the seriousness of  _ Chasseur _ !  _ People have died! You died! _ And you want to what, up and go immediately? You know what I didn’t have to do? I didn’t have to be pulled from Potions research just because— _ Merlin forbid _ —the Saviour stays dead on foreign soil. It would have been a diplomatic disaster!" Malfoy was furious, his eyes hard as he jabbed his long, pointy finger into Harry's chest. 

"Also, did you know what I didn't have to do? I didn’t have to be required to defend the efficacy of a potion at its discovery stage!  _ My _ potion, at  _ discovery _ stage, was  _ simply  _ supposed to work because it was  _ the Saviour _ . Do you want another war in your hands if you fail, young Malfoy?" Malfoy was hysterical now, and maybe it was the proximity of their faces, but Harry finally noticed the dark circles around Malfoy's eyes that reminded him of their sixth year. 

"I haven't slept for ten days and I haven't washed my face for three, but do you care?  _ No! _ Because all you care about is when you can leave! I could really strangle you sometimes," Malfoy curled his fingers dramatically into a tight fist centimeters away from Harry’s nose. His hands were trembling as they looked at each other heavily, Harry in fear and Malfoy in breathless anger. 

Just as quickly, Malfoy collapsed into himself, drawing backwards as he pressed his hands into his face. "I'll request to transfer you to St. Mungo's. You're like a cockroach. You wouldn't die. Hand you off in good condition to the fucking Healers, then to England," he muttered to himself as he stared intently at the thin blanket on Harry's legs. Coming to a conclusion over his troubles, Malfoy nodded satisfactorily as he closed his eyes while breathing in deeply. When he opened them, his lips were lifted into a poor semblance of a smile. 

"Alright, Mr. Potter. You'll be able to leave France soon. It's been a while, hasn't it?" He said gently in a breathy voice dripping with faux sympathy.

Harry bit his lips as he tried to move away. Malfoy's eyes were bright with malice and the smile on his face was twisted with derangement. He wondered if this was Malfoy's way of killing him, through forced transport justified by his own foolhardy request. 

"It's okay, Malfoy. I can stay for a bit longer. I don't think that I'm up for a release or a transfer," he said evenly, careful to not set Malfoy off further. 

"No, it's okay, Mr. Potter. I'll convey your request to the British Ministry in my subsequent correspondence. You'll be back in no time," Malfoy insisted as he returned to his notebook. 

" _ No, it's okay _ ," Harry insisted as he tried his best to sink into the bed in a show of weak helplessness. "I don't think that I feel well enough for a transfer." 

"Of course you wouldn't feel too well. You've just woken up after your body fought to expel  _ Chasseur _ . But you should go back to sleep. You'll be in St. Mungo's right when you wake." 

" _ No! _ " Harry yelled, suddenly unbelievably upset at the thought of Malfoy pushing him into the Floo while he was unconscious on a bed. He kicked his legs in frustration. "I need to be under your care! I don't feel well after taking  _ your _ discovery antidote!" 

Malfoy's eyes snapped to his. " _Firstly_ , Potter, I am _not_ a Healer! I should _not_ be offering _any_ care and I have _no_ interest in caring any longer! _Secondly_ , _I_ have been overseeing the production of the antidote while caring for you and _you_ are taking up my time. I need to help more people. Stop being such a selfish cunt, Potter," he spat murderously. "Most importantly, if _the Saviour_ deems himself well enough to leave, who am I to question him?" 

Harry’s shoulders slumped on the hospital bed. "But I was just asking. I always ask when I can leave the hospital. I don't actually feel very well," he said, unable to keep the whine out of his voice. He didn't want to inconvenience Malfoy, but he didn't want to be tossed out of the hospital while he was still feeling bruised and vulnerable. Noticing the softening glare, Harry quickly deepened his pout. 

"Fine, but I wouldn't be around. I'll be passing you back to the Healers. If there's any complications— _ and there better not be _ —it'll be forwarded to me. You should return to sleep." 

Harry grabbed Malfoy's hand when he turned to leave. "I won’t be back in St. Mungos when I wake, right? Do you promise me?" 

Malfoy's brows were creased as he looked at him, then at where their hands were touching. "Yes, you wouldn’t be in St. Mungos. But it's really not that bad. They'll transfer you nicely. You're the Saviour, you know? It would have been fine." 

"Do you promise me?" Harry insisted as he looked heavily into Malfoy's eyes. 

"Okay, okay! Are you ever going to let go of me?" Malfoy complained even though he was making no move to remove his hand from the loose hold. 

"Not until you say  _ 'I promise' _ ," Harry replied. 

Malfoy's raised a brow at him in skepticism. "I'm not going to put magic in this, Potter. Who knows what you'll do." 

"I don't need a binding promise. You just need to say that you promise not to send me back while I'm asleep." 

"So it's just a verbal agreement then? What's the point in that? What would you do if I sent you back anyway?" Malfoy tilted his head as he smirked at him in challenge. 

"Well, I'll-" he paused at the realisation that he would not do anything. He would fume, maybe, but like Malfoy said, he wouldn't be worse for wear. "Well, then you'll be an untrustworthy bugger.” 

"And that makes it different how?" 

"Well, would  _ you  _ like to be an untrustworthy bugger?" Harry asked. 

"Am I not already one?" Malfoy raised his brows in amusement. 

"Of course not!" Harry said vehemently, "how are you untrustworthy? You're intelligent and occasionally spiteful but you're not  _ that _ bad!" 

" _ 'Intelligent and occasionally spiteful _ '," Malfoy repeated pensively as if testing the phrase for a fit. He had a small smile on his lips, "well, since we're being all chummy, I'd say that you're sincere but terribly foolhardy.  _ Goodnight, Potter. _ " He pulled out his wand from his robes. 

Harry's eyes widened at the familiar swish and tap that countless Healers had used on him throughout the years. Neck going slack, his heavy eyelids fell shut. Swearing to skin Malfoy the next time he saw him, Harry's mind went black as he fell into unconsciousness. 


	3. 20 July 2012, Harry is 32

Harry cursed when the Portkey threw him onto his bad leg. Startling when he bumped into a sunflower, Harry felt his shoulders loosen as he took in his surroundings. The bed and breakfast in the distance was exactly as advertised, a quaint and homely property with a large veranda that had called out to him from Hermione’s brochure. 

Apparating across the field, he blinked when the wards embraced him. The magic was old, warm and familiar, but the frequency was nothing that he had come across recently. Harry stood still at the porch leading to the house, resisting the urge to push his magic into the core of the property that was calling to him like his own home. 

Frowning as he examined the layers of the wards, he wondered about the owner's seeming paranoia and the haphazardness of the newer additions. Unlike the original foundations, it was brusque and inelegant. If he shifted the ward just so to—"welcome, Mr. Potter."

Harry startled at the address, gaping as he took in the sight of Mrs. Malfoy in a blue Muggle dress at the entryway of the house. 

"You're N?" He asked in disbelief in reference to the prior correspondence he had with the owner. He knew that Mrs. Malfoy had left for the continent after being acquitted, but to run a bed and breakfast in a remote countryside? He realised that the secrecy was both ways—to not only protect her lodgers but also herself. 

"Of course," she replied evenly as Harry surveyed the surroundings once more with a renewed perspective. 

Which reminded Harry—"I'm sorry about the-" he waved his hand weakly as he mimed burrowing underground. It was incredibly rude to scope someone's wards without permission, but it was so hard to resist. "Occupational hazard," he said as he combed his hair backwards sheepishly. 

"It's alright. You're a curse breaker now, aren't you?" She asked as she gestured for him to follow her. "Perhaps you could work on improving it during your spare time? Draco tried his best but I'm sure that it's not quite up to your standard." 

"Oh, erm, if you don't mind," Harry said nervously as he sat at the polished dining table before a hearth. He idly wondered if the wards’ familiarity was in recognition of their intertwined bloodline, his ownership of Grimmauld Place, or the life debt that he owed Mrs. Malfoy. He was content for it to be a mix of all three. Despite the uniqueness of the situation, his occupation hazard didn't extend far enough for a thorough investigation. Besides, after sustaining another injury in Morocco from his partner's misjudgement, he was tired. The constant travelling was also wearing him out, and he needed to figure out his life. He took a sip of tea before humming in surprise at its preparation. 

"A splash of milk and three sugars. Was I wrong?" Mrs. Malfoy said as she squeezed a bit of lemon in hers. 

"No, you’re not. But how did you know?" The detailed questionnaire he filled beforehand had nothing about how he took his tea. He felt his face flush when he remembered about the headline discussing his scandalous tea preference during Seamus and Dean's wedding. "I had hoped that the Prophet wouldn't deliver here," he sighed. 

"Oh, no. It doesn't. I've just been in possession of your preferences for more than twenty years,” she raised her brow at him delicately. 

Harry stared at her in confusion as he processed the timeline. He burst into laughter, “a splash of milk and none if he's stressed?" 

"Indeed. Keep your friends close, enemies closer." The corner of Mrs. Malfoy’s lips were lifted.

"Close enough to hit," Harry replied, freezing at his reflexive vindictiveness. "I didn't-"

Mrs. Malfoy only waved him off with an amused smile. "It's alright. He really deserved it sometimes, that boy. I'm also more than aware that the hitting went both ways." 

"Yeah. It did," Harry said as he sipped his tea carefully. It was strange to have his and Malfoy’s childhood antics validated by Mrs. Malfoy, no less, and it was hard to control the urge to complain about every slight her son had committed against his being. 

"Lunch will be served in an hour. You can have a rest and wash up in your room. I'll call you when it's ready." 

Harry's eyes darted to the Muggle oven in the corner. "Oh, alright, thanks, Mrs. Malfoy." 

"Narcissa, please. The room on the left with the open door," she said when he stood up. 

"Erm, alright. Thanks. Thanks for the tea too," he smiled nervously as he pushed the chair. 

"Look, Mr. Potter-" 

"Harry, please," he interrupted. 

"Alright, Harry. You don't have to worry about formalities around me. I'm not going to judge you, or go running for anyone over the things that you do. You're a young boy looking for a bit of a break. Go do whatever you want, go see whatever you like. I'll always be available for meals or to prepare food you require for your journeys," she said levelly she met his eyes.

"Erm," he replied ineloquently. It had been a long while since he was a _young boy_ to anyone. "I have no idea what to see or do. Erm, here. Or anywhere," he said, honesty spilling from his lips. It had been so long since anyone seemed to have time for him, or looked at him properly. All of his friends were coupled up with their soulmates, too busy and content with their lives to care about him. It also didn't help that he had travelled so much to find his words, inevitably distancing himself from the people that he loved. 

"That's good. Then the possibilities are endless, aren't they?" Narcissa said as she helped herself to more tea. "And we both have so much time to figure it out." 

Stunned by her optimism, he suddenly remembered that she had after all, uprooted her entire life and withdrawn to an old Malfoy property to run a bed and breakfast on her own. He suddenly felt ashamed by his thoughts, but he was so tired, and he didn't want to be brave, independent, or strong on his own. He was so lonely, and he just wanted to be _loved_ and _held_. He wanted to be timid, to be small and unknown. He didn't want to be injured. 

"Oh, darling. It's okay," Narcissa set her cup down immediately when she noticed the conflicted expression on Harry's face. She rounded the table to pull him close. "Oh, it's okay, sweetheart. _It's okay,_ " she soothed when Harry suddenly started to cry. Holding Harry in a tight embrace, one hand smoothed his hair while the other ran up and down his back gently. 

"It's okay to not know what you're doing. It's perfectly normal," she repeated when Harry started to cry harder at the empathy and consideration that he was receiving. It was an emptiness and frustration that he had never let himself explore properly before. _Hadn't he done enough for the world? Didn't he deserve somebody to love him? What more did he have to do?_

" _It's not okay,_ " he insisted between tears, shaking his head against the curve of Narcissa's neck as he clutched onto the soft linen of her dress. 

"That's complete rubbish! It's okay. It's okay to feel lost and defeated sometimes. Life isn't that easy, you know?"

"Why can't it be? Why does it have to-" he trailed off as the upset took over him and he cried harder against Narcissa. 

Afterwards, Harry would wonder if he had fallen apart in Narcissa's arms due to the general deprivation of maternal love in his life. Sure, he had been saved by his mother's love and sacrifice, but there were many moments where he would have selfishly trade it all for her physical presence instead, to hell with all of the wizarding community. 

> **_A list prepared by Harry Potter before his bedtime_ **
> 
> **Things to do in The Quiet B &B**  
> 1\. fix The Quiet's ward  
> 2\. visit a lavender field  
> 3\. buy presents for   
> \- Teddy  
> \- Hermione  
> \- Ron  
> \- Andromeda   
> \- Luna  
> \- Ginny   
> \- Neville   
> \- Narcissa (????????)   
> \- Mrs. and Mr. Weasley   
> \- Bill - George   
> 4\. wait for leg to get better   
> 5\. think about what to do in life  
> 6\. read one of Narcissa's romance novels  
> 7\. quit curse breaking (???)   
> 8\. FIND A NEW JOB 

> **_A worn and tattered note rolled between Harry's wand and its grip, in its original size_ **
> 
> **Hello, Hogwarts too?**
> 
> Person does not recognise Harry Potter!!!!!!  
> To do list:   
> \- Travel overseas more (switched to curse breaking)   
> \- Travel to Battle of Hogwarts anniversaries via Portkey  
> \- Post letters during start of Hogwarts term (with worried parents)  
> \- Browse at tourist trap shops and major streets overseas  
> \- Attend conferences worldwide if possible  
> \- Visit overseas pubs  
> \- Join guided tours overseas   
> \- Meet more people overseas!!!!!!! 

* * *

**30 July 2012, Harry is 32**

Harry rubbed the salve into his left leg as Narcissa huffed in amusement at the protagonist on screen. Harry bit the insides of his lips as he worked at the knot up his left calf. After injuries from chases during his Auror days, his Achilles tendon had never been quite the same. Following the recent explosion, the Healers had insisted on "natural healing" to force his sinews to stitch themselves back slowly. Mostly unassisted apart from diluted potions, it was a treatment _just a bit_ better than the Muggle method of waiting it out. 

Narcissa had written to Malfoy to request a nerve salve for her anonymous lodger, and it had helped his recovery immensely. Harry was no longer a stranger to benefitting from Malfoy's Potioneering skills. With a focus on critical conditions, Malfoy had developed _Extermino_ , the most powerful burn salve on the market and had made strides in the field of nerve regeneration and trauma management potions. As usual, even his concoctions at discovery stages were incredibly effective—Harry held no bitterness at the knowledge. After a particularly bad explosion during one of his earlier missions, he would have been left for dead had it not been for _Extermino_. Gratitude towards a Malfoy was not out of place in the post-war landscape. 

" _Tu as toujours mal?_ " Narcissa sighed as she suddenly turned to face him. 

Harry meeped when Narcissa suddenly pulled his leg onto her lap. Falling onto his back, he bit his lips when she started to massage the bottom of his calf. 

"Are you alright?" She asked when he looked at her from his awkward angle. "Have a cushion," she advised as the French movie continued to play. 

"Alright," he said while Scourgifying his legs just in case. Because of his injury, he had been confined in the house, but despite being in close quarters for more than a week, their relationship had managed to flourish. Harry would spend his time reading the novels she had, try his best to paint landscapes with her in the vast fields, and trade stories about their lives over tea. If he disregarded the ache in his leg and the deep sorrow he nursed over his persistent singlehood, he otherwise felt like a child, and it was an unfamiliar but welcome experience. It was novel to have an adult figure so focused on his well being. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were always distracted by their chores, children, and hobbies, while Dumbledore saw him more as a means to an end, more preoccupied with obfuscation than to care for him. Remus was too haunted by his losses and his furry little problem to think about him. For Harry, Narcissa was the Sirius that he could have had. Ravaged by Azkaban, his godfather would often lose himself within his mind, but he had tried to make Harry happy, in as much that he could. Nowadays, Harry fell asleep jealous of Malfoy's luck. 

Harry made himself comfortable as he lay on his side to watch the television while Narcissa continued to knead his calf. They laughed together when the protagonist made another sarcastic remark. 

"Oh, it's midnight," Narcissa said suddenly when the music of the movie swelled. He made a curious sound as he tore his eyes away to look at the clock. 

"Happy Birthday, Harry," she smiled at him as she squeezed his calf gently. "May the year be filled with health, purpose, love and lightness." 

Harry flushed as he tried to sit up. "Thank you. Thanks, erm. Same to you, really. I've forgotten that it's the thirty first," he said. 

An amused smile crossed her lips as she lifted his leg to tip him onto his back once more. "Draco never forgets," she laughed at Harry's incredulous expression. "Apparently the Prophet misses you, and he had complains about that." 

Harry chuckled at the image of an irate Malfoy. "How does he still have the time to be mad about my existence?" Harry sighed as he returned to look at the television. 

"Because it's you," Narcissa replied evenly, "he'll always have time to think about you."

Harry gaped at both the statement and the obvious lack of concern. 

"Is it not the same for you?" 

"Erm," Harry began guiltily. He had subscribed to the medical research journal that Malfoy often published his papers in since Hermione had mentioned it in passing years ago, and he would always skim the content page of the quarterly publication before tossing it out when it didn't have anything from Malfoy. He had the exact journals that Narcissa had on her shelves, and would often travel with one of the four copies as a sleeping aid. "Maybe?" He said sheepishly. 

Narcissa nodded with an amused smile. "I don't think that his ego would ever recover if you said no." 

"It goes both ways, honestly." 

Narcissa patted his leg in commiseration. Harry turned back to face the television, conscious that he was now a year older. He steadfastly refused to think about the letters the both of them had sent out for his new job. Settling in to watch the movie, they were heedless of the time. 

> **_A list prepared by Narcissa Malfoy, in discussion with Harry Potter_ **
> 
> **List of possible jobs for one Harry James Potter**
> 
> Conditions: 
> 
> \- less injuries   
> \- less travelling for long periods of time   
> \- work life balance  
> \- no politics   
> \- no capitalisation on the Harry Potter fame 
> 
> Possible jobs: 
> 
> \- Security freelance (investigations & warding)   
> \- Bakery owner   
> \- Brooms maker   
> \- Teaching  
> \- Hogwarts staff member   
> \- Beauxbatons staff member   
> \- Kindergarten owner 

> **_Correspondence between Hermione Granger and Harry Potter_ **
> 
> 31 July 2012
> 
> Dear Harry 
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I was really happy to receive the postcard and I'm glad to hear that your leg is recovering. The Quiet and the fresh air in the countryside seems to be agreeing with you! 
> 
> Molly has decided to throw a birthday party for you whether or not you are around, and the damned thing starts right at seven in the morning. ~~You really should have returned~~ Maybe we could visit her when you return? Ron thinks that she's going crazy. 
> 
> Work is as hectic as usual and we're still trying to pass the regulation banning creatures discrimination in the workplace. You'd think that people would aspire to be better, but alas, Barnabas cannot resist printing the rubbish he subsists on. I can only wish for Parkinson to dispose of him as soon as possible. Writing this has made me look forward to your party, if not just for a break. I'll catch up on sleep while the kids run about. 
> 
> Anyway, it really doesn't matter. I'm just glad that you ~~wrote~~ seem happier and I can't wait to see you when you return. Maybe we could have dinner with just the ~~three~~ two of us. 
> 
> Ron says that he'll eat enough for the both of you tomorrow. As if he's not doing that all the time already. 
> 
> Missing you always!
> 
> Hermione (and Ronald Weasley) 
> 
> P.S. I hope that you like your present!
> 
> P.P.S. I really like the name of the B&B. It's genius.

> **_Correspondence between Minerva McGonagall and Harry Potter_ **
> 
> 31 July 2012 
> 
> Dear Harry
> 
> Thank you for your CV expressing interest in teaching in Hogwarts. Coincidentally, we currently have an opening for DADA as Fawley has decided to start a museum for his vast collection of teaspoons. I had hesitated to contact you, seeing that you seemed so partial to travelling. 
> 
> As you might be aware, Hogwarts now has multiple teachers for its core subjects such as DADA, Transfiguration, Charms and Potions to help our staff better manage the workload. I will share more when during our interview. 
> 
> Attached is a Portkey to Hogwarts' gates for 2 August, 10am GMT. 
> 
> Please also find enclosed photographs from our records. Your father and Sirius were the most agonising students I have ever had the fortune to teach. Happy birthday, Harry. I look forward to seeing you soon. 
> 
> Headmistress 
> 
> Minerva McGonagall 


	4. 16 August 2012, Harry is 32

Harry stood in the middle of his new quarters, hands on his waist as he made a slow turn. He looked at the light filtering through the gauze blinds, the mantelpiece adorned with photographs chronicling Teddy's childhood, the doors leading to his bedroom and the study, the shaky bookshelf stuffed with books from his previous jobs, and a thick rug under the overstuffed leather sofa he had both brought from Grimmauld Place. Being constantly on the road had left him with few possessions—there had been little that had been essential, his trunk unexpanded when he left for Hogwarts. 

He felt nervous about the possibilities before him. Deciding to settle down was the first step. When he could no longer hide, he had to work through his loneliness, his jealousy and the discontent. The mind-healer Narcissa referred had challenged him to stop waiting for his soulmate, and to find himself beyond them. There were so many things that he could do instead of searching, or waiting to be found. 

Harry twisted his fingers. _There was no time like now,_ he thought as he strode out of his quarters. 

\- 

Trailing his fingers across the rough finishing of the Hogwarts walls, Harry walked down the corridors as the magic in the castle glided along with him. Its eagerness was contagious, and he complied in amusement whenever it alerted him of the new additions to the castle. He was appraising a (relatively) new wall lamp when the magic suddenly began to tremble in excitement. 

Inspecting his surroundings, his brows lifted at the sight of Malfoy rounding the corner. 

Malfoy was smirking as he walked towards him. "Hogwarts too, huh?" He said in lieu of a greeting.

"Er," Harry could only manage as he gaped at Malfoy. It wasn't _exactly_ his words, but it was the closest that anyone had come to it.

"Do you have nothing to say to your trustworthy, intelligent and occasionally spiteful Potioneer?"

Harry broke out of his stupor, huffing in laughter as he combed his fringe backwards. "Thanks," he said, "for not transferring me while I was asleep. I'm grateful." It was belated, but when he had woken up again years ago aching and uncomfortable in the central hospital in Paris, only the fear of distracting Malfoy had stopped him from sending a singing garland.

Pleasure softened Malfoy's features as he beamed uncharacteristically at him. "It's fine. The betrayal on your face when I knocked you out was more than enough," he laughed. 

"I'm glad that you were so easily satisfied," Harry rolled his eyes in disapproval as they made their way to the meeting room. "But honestly, thanking you was on today’s agenda. I should have done that earlier, but I went undercover again almost immediately," he shrugged. 

"Finding yourself through work?" Malfoy tilted his head as he looked at him in commiseration. 

Harry could only shrug in reply. Trying to find himself through work would have been better than trying to find his soulmate through work. It was the largest mistake in his life—that he had been searching for his soulmate instead of himself. He wondered if the regret was obvious, that he had nothing to show unlike Malfoy's easy confidence and casual effusiveness. Malfoy had cast away the burdens of the past, whereas his own had weighed him down for the longest time. _You’re trying your best to make progress though_ , a small voice within himself reminded him. 

"I get it, you know? But I must say, Potter, unlike everyone else, I was not surprised when I heard that you would be settling down. It gets tiring after a while," Malfoy's smile was crooked. 

Harry offered a nod when Malfoy seemed expectant. He didn't want to start blabbering about his bad decisions to another Malfoy. "Erm, I'm worried that I won't like the job." 

Malfoy face crumpled with exaggerated disdain. " _Firstly_ , it's DADA, and _teaching_ . You've been doing this since forever," he said. " _Secondly_ , you're taking the younger students so you can be the fun teacher. Which, I mean," he made a show of running his gaze from Harry's untameable hair, to the green button down, dark slacks and Muggle shoes before shaking his head in disapproval. 

"Oi, I'm plenty formal!" Harry complained as he gave his outfit another once over. His work wear closet was updated regularly and most importantly, none of them had holes. In fact, the shirt he had on was collared, and his shoes were proper office wear type from Harrods! "You're just being discriminatory," he accused. 

"No I'm not," Malfoy snapped. "I have proper Muggle clothes, just so you know. But this is Hogwarts and you're supposed to wear robes." 

"No, I'm not. There's no dress code for staff. I've read the handbook thrice." And so he had—in between the sleepless nights, more awake than excited, he had reviewed his lesson plans and read everything relevant to calm his nerves. He had also learnt finally that _Hogwarts: A History_ was a lot more fascinating than its title. 

"Well, it's the principle of the matter," Malfoy said snottily as he crossed his arms. "Your Muggle wear is _obscene_ ! You can't have your chest, and your-" he gestured with obvious agitation, "your arms and _whatever_ on display!" 

Harry looked at Malfoy skeptically as he leaned away for safety. "I, erm—but I'm dressed? Nothing's on display," he touched the cuffs that he had rolled above his elbows nervously.

"Well I don't see the difference!" Malfoy said vehemently as he threw his hands in the air. "Your arse is literally out!" 

Harry moved to grab his bottom in shock. "No, I have my trousers on," he said disapprovingly at Malfoy's antics. 

"Like I said, _there's no difference between you wearing trousers or having your arse bare because your clothes are so tight!_ Hogwarts is an esteemed institution and you are _not_ allowed to seduce its students!" Malfoy said as he pointed sharply at the air before him. 

"I'm not seducing anyone," Harry defended weakly as he tried to gauge the tightness of his slacks. 

"Yes you are! Stop! Stop touching it!" Malfoy exclaimed. " _Stop touching your arse!_ " 

All sense left Harry as Malfoy's agitated refrain suddenly sounded like an command—and any commands from Malfoy had to be challenged. "I shan't! I _will_ touch my arse! I will _grab_ it!" He said, presenting his arse to Malfoy as he made a show of groping himself. 

"No, you are a degenerate! You cannot bring your exhibitionist tendencies to Hogwarts!" Malfoy howled as he tried to pull Harry's hands away.

It was in this ridiculous position that they were caught by the Headmistress. After a stilted and heated explanation, they were rewarded with a _deeply_ disapproving look and a stern caution to maintain their professionalism at all times. 

Harry's day was ruined by Malfoy's allegations—he was too self-conscious to leave the wall to mingle with his _other_ new colleagues. 

> **_Correspondence between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy_ **
> 
> 18 August 2012 
> 
> Dear Malfoy
> 
> I asked Hermione about my clothes and she agreed that they were a little bit tight. I usually get the same size because I'm not very good at shopping. I might have gained muscles without noticing. 
> 
> As you know, Muggle clothes cannot be expanded. I am aware that you are a busy man, but I also know that you will get a HUGE kick out of insulting me so I'm giving you the last chance to get it all out before Hogwarts opens. Do return if you have a few hours one day to go shopping for work clothes with me. 
> 
> I promise to accommodate your busy schedule if you are available. 
> 
> I can be very professional too
> 
> Harry Potter
> 
> * * *
> 
> Harry 
> 
> I was surprised to receive your owl. I would like to apologise for the spectacle I unintentionally caused during our last meeting. I was a bit too worked up by your clothes, and I do not mean the accusations that I levied on you. ~~I can't believe that you didn't notice the muscles though. You were bursting out of your clothes!!!!!!~~
> 
> I appreciate the invitation, but I would like to counter propose a full day of shopping. A whole wardrobe cannot be purchased in a few hours. I am available on Friday if that is amenable. I would prefer to avoid the shopping crowds. 
> 
> Also, it must be said that I no longer relish insulting you. I have matured from our schooldays. Please do not hold my behaviour from our last meeting as a reference of my current character. I lost control of myself and for that, I am deeply ashamed. 
> 
> With reference to the topic at hand, I believe that you would still prefer Muggle work wear? I would like to plan the shops to visit so we do not amble about aimlessly. Is your wizarding wardrobe properly sized and in fashion? Do consider that your attendance would be expected in key society events with your return to the United Kingdom. 
> 
> Ashamed, hopeful and amicable
> 
> Draco 
> 
> * * *
> 
> Draco 
> 
> Are you sure that you have not lost your mind?? But that if your apology was sincere, I will accept it. I was hurt and confused when you insulted me. I actually update my work wear closet from time to time and I genuinely thought that I looked quite smart. I didn't notice that I had grown out of them. 
> 
> Are you sure that you can spare a full Friday?? Please don't inconvenience yourself! I am already deeply thankful that you are willing to go along with me at all.
> 
> I wish that you didn't remind me about those events. I am already getting invites for the next six months! Bloody hell, it's ridiculous! My robes are old but can we not get new ones? :( I want them to regret inviting me. :( 
> 
> Confused but cautiously grateful
> 
> Harry 
> 
> * * *
> 
> Harry
> 
> I have not lost my mind, my letter was genuine, and I am sincere, thank you very much. I would like to apologise again for hurting your feelings. You did look ~~very~~ good, but it was just a bit ~~obscene~~ too tight. 
> 
> Yes, I can spare a full Friday. I wouldn't have offered if I couldn't. 
> 
> Anyway, those events are a logistical nightmare and they're probably desperate to have you, thus the early invitations. You don't have to go for everything, you can send them a nominal amount or donate something for auction if they're fundraisers. But some are not too bad, especially when the food and drinks are good. Always bring a friend who can pull you away from sticky situations. 
> 
> We will be getting at least two sets of robes. You'll definitely need to attend the Ministry Ball, and having robes to change around would make it slightly better. Maybe we could get a Muggle tuxedo too. Something that's made well, fits right and is timeless so you can wear it forever (I know you, Harry).
> 
> How is the coordination of lesson plans with Heather coming along? I hope that you're liking the job more already. 
> 
> Genuine and sincere
> 
> Draco 
> 
> * * *
> 
> Draco
> 
> I apologise for doubting, that was rude of me. Please don't apologise about my clothes anymore. I think we can both agree that you have more than compensated by agreeing to take me on a shopping trip, for a full day, no less! 
> 
> Please advise on the preferred meeting place and time. I will be there with bells on. 
> 
> Thank you for planning so much! And the accommodation of my preference for Muggle styles. Thank you very much!!
> 
> My lesson plans are almost finalised! I was worried that my upper years counterpart would be hard to work with, but Heather is fantastic. She favours practical lessons too, so the students wouldn't be too unsettled when they progress to the upper years. And I am liking the job more already, but I'm still sad that I missed teaching Teddy by just a year. I'm more beat up about it than he is. IT IS MISERABLE. I could have embarrassed him so much. UGH. 
> 
> I know that you wouldn't write to me so quickly if you didn't have the time, but I worry that I am taking too much of your time. How's your research coming along? 
> 
> Grateful and excited
> 
> Harry 
> 
> * * *
> 
> 21 August 2012
> 
> Draco 
> 
> Thank you for spending Friday with me. I enjoyed the tour of your nonprofit and I see why and how you guys are defining the medical and Potion world. Enclosed is a picture of the medical journals of your papers since you refuse to believe me. I have also used _Extermino_ multiple times!! You should know how careless I can be. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for taking time out to shop with me because I'm actually looking forward to the tailored clothes. I don't think that I would have ever visited a proper shop on my own. I also really love the other stuff we got.
> 
> My mind-healer says that I should hang out with you more often because I am happier and more excited. I'll be bringing Teddy to Thorpe Park on Sunday and it has the fastest Muggle rollercoaster in the UK. It is an amusement park where Muggles visit to scare themselves and get their adrenaline going. Would you like to join us? Teddy is incredibly excited and I would be very happy if you could join us. I'll apologise in advance for it being a Sunday. Unlike you, we're both layabouts :( 
> 
> Eternally grateful and an entire vault poorer
> 
> Harry 
> 
> * * *

**2 December 2012, Harry is 32**

Harry tapped his jaw as he waited impatiently for his students to leave. His practical class had accidentally overrun and he was now late for his weekly dinner appointment with Draco. Taking only the graduating Potions class, Draco was at Hogwarts thrice a week for a few hours each time, and Wednesday was the only day that their schedules coincided. 

"Professor, I don't think that we've mastered the Protego charm," Harry breathed deeply at the familiar voice to his right. He closed his eyes to compose himself. 

"Charlotte," he greeted before nodding at Susan who was standing behind her.

"You can't expect to master it in thirty minutes. You need to continue practicing after class." 

"Are you going to tutor us after class?" 

"No, Charlotte, I am unable to do so. Though I'm sure that practising on your own would be more effective than having me around." Harry had not used his sarcasm as much as he did before he had started teaching. He had learnt to identify and discourage any of the students' crushes only after two months into his post, and by then, most of the students were already too stubborn to pick up the thinly veiled hints. 

"Perhaps Miss Hopkins could help?" He looked at the more level-headed student of the two. "Alright, I'll see both of you next week. Hurry along now," he said when he received a small nod from the second year student. Warding his drawers, he tapped on the table as they whispered furiously to each other while heading to the door. Mentally screaming for them to move faster, he combed his hair back and straightened his collar for want of something to do—it was improper to be seen running out scarcely after the girls had left. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he imagined them turning round the corner, passing the tapestry hiding the flight of stairs that would bring him back to his quarters. 

He pulled his classroom door open gingerly. The coast was clear. He peered around the corner before tapping the bricks hurriedly, throwing himself in, flying down the stairs, and back to his rooms.

Draco was seated before the coffee table, reading a stack of Potions essays when he burst in. 

"I'm sorry for being late!" Harry apologised brightly as he unshrunk the Prophet that he had purchased in the morning. "Is that my pen that you're sucking," he exclaimed. 

"Found it on the table. You're not using it so it's mine," Draco shrugged as he made a short note on the parchment. Harry had been converted by Draco to use biros instead of a quill, and his handwriting now looked better than Draco's slanted scrawl. The downside to the convenience and improvement in penmanship was that his pens were always disappearing.

"Anyway, you're only four minutes late. No one cares for an apology." 

Harry shrugged as he fell across the sofa. Draco's seventh year double Potions typically ended early and he always felt guilty keeping Draco waiting. Also, with Draco's schedule, Harry felt like he didn't see him often enough. Draco had shared once that he had joined Hogwarts above his full-time job due to the desire to reform the curriculum so that it would encourage discovery instead of merely precise brewing, and that he had continued _because_ _it wasn't so bad_. Regardless of the awful humor, it was plain to everyone that Draco was interested in giving back to Hogwarts. Which was just as well—Hermione had nothing but praise for Hogwarts' Potions education the last round of drinks at the pub that Draco managed to attend. Sometimes he wished that Draco had a bit more time to spare. He really enjoyed the camaraderie that they had built up. 

"Miss Jones again?" Draco asked when Harry sighed morosely. He leaned against the couch as he peered at him in amusement. 

"Nah," Harry replied lazily, turning to lay on his side as he smiled at Draco, "but she did try to arrange for extra lessons again today." 

Draco rolled his eyes disbelievingly. "Merlin, she really doesn't quit, does she? You were literally training to be an Auror when she was being born. I mean-" 

"And dying the third time when she was being bullied at the playgrounds, yes," Harry interrupted. "It's unbecoming, blah blah blah, what is she thinking, blah blah blah, says the reigning Professor Charming for the _fourth_ year in the row, as if he doesn’t have students trailing after you. Manage your own hoard, please." 

Draco's cheeks flushed in obvious pleasure, his eyes bright from the reminder as the sharp line of his shoulders loosened. It was a title he was incredibly proud of, having won it since his first year. "Don't blah blah blah me," he said, just to be contrary. 

"I'll do it as long as you continue charming your students." 

"I do not, Potter! I teach them with a firm hand!" he punctuated with jabs to Harry's curled palm. "You wouldn't know natural magnetism even if it hit you," he yelped when Harry grabbed the index finger. 

"I probably would if it hit my bottom," Harry said playfully as he released his grip, laughing at the dirty look Draco gave him when he almost fell backwards. 

"You wouldn't notice. Even if it hit your face," Draco insisted as he looked straight at Harry. His eyes moved speculatively across his face. "Maybe you would if it hit you right on your filthy mouth." 

"I definitely would notice if it's big enough."

"You're so sleazy," Draco rolled his eyes in fond amusement as he returned to his essays. "Don't you have any marking to be done?" He poked Harry with his red biro. 

"Finished the last of it yesterday," he made a victory sign at Draco. 

Draco narrowed his eyes at him before turning back to his work with a huff. 

Listening to the rustle of parchment, Harry curled his legs as he looked at the neat slope of Draco's hair at the back of his head. He curled his fingers as he desperately resisted the urge to comb through and trail his hand down the slope of Draco's neck. 

He cleared his throat nervously as he poked his finger into Draco's back instead. "Erm, would you be free anytime during the night this week?" 

"Why?" Draco asked with thick suspicion. "I _will not_ visit the amusement park again." 

"We won't be going to the amusement park. It'll be too late." He should have known better than to spend time anticipating Draco's replies when he was so fond of curveballs. "No one goes to the amusement park at night," he explained exasperatedly when Draco continued to search his eyes for deceit. 

"Why not?" 

"Because the tickets are expensive and it's not worth it when you-" he broke off with a frown. "Stop distracting me, you arse. Will you be free any night this week?" He asked with a lot more impatience than his rehearsal in the morning. 

"Yeah, we're going to Andromeda's on Saturday, aren't we?" 

"No! Apart from Saturday! Like Friday or whatever!" Harry said in frustration, desperately controlling the urge to shake Draco. 

"Thursday or Friday, you mean. There's only two days left in the week." 

"Oh my god, yes! Thursday or Friday! Will you be free, oh my god!" Harry was yelling now as he sat up in agitation. 

"Well, don't get snippy when you’re the one with communication issues," Draco shot back as he crossed his arms. "What do you want me for, Potter," he asked curtly, his posh accent in full force. 

Harry groaned loudly, "A date! _Ugh, why does it have to be so hard!_ " He flailed in frustration. 

"Oh," Draco said quietly as his cheeks pinked. "I'm free on Friday then." 

"Really?" Harry broke out of his agony to grin at Draco. 

"I wouldn't have said so if I wasn't serious, Potter." 

"Of course you wouldn't," Harry beamed at Draco. 

"Where are you taking me to?" Draco asked shyly as he placed his hands beside Harry's gently. 

"To the new French restaurant in Diagon," Harry felt his heart skip at the pleasant surprise that crossed Draco's features. Knowing Draco's picky standards, he had asked Hermione to visit to corroborate the reviews from the Prophet. 

"How did you manage to get a table? Even Pansy hasn't been able to visit." 

"I used your name," he grinned winningly at Draco. 

"My name?"

"Yeah, I name dropped to get a reservation." 

"And my name worked," Draco asked in disbelief. 

"Of course it would. You bloody created _Extermino_!" 

"Oh," Draco looked away in embarrassment even though his careful delight was obvious. It was moments like this that endeared Draco to Harry deeply—Draco tried his best to come across uncaring and abrasive, but he was actually thoughtful, eager to please and terribly awkward. 

"You're still supposed to pay though. Even though the reservation is under my name," he suddenly said seriously. 

"I asked you for a date, of course I'll pay. You can pay for the next." 

"Bold of you to presume that I’ll ask for a next date."

Harry glared at Draco. "Now you’re just being difficult." 

“Well, why should I ask for a second date when the first isn’t good? If you want me to ask for a second date, you’d better make sure that everything goes well," he titled his head as he looked at Harry challengingly. 

Harry considered the advice before nodding. "I'll knock you off your feet."

"No, you're supposed to sweep me off my feet," Draco corrected.

"It's the same, really. You better be ready."

Draco shrugged. "I'm always ready, Potter." 

Harry sneered when Draco smirked at him in challenge. He would plan a date so good that Draco wouldn't know what hit him. 

> **_A list from Draco Malfoy to Harry Potter_ **
> 
> **HARRY POTTER’S HELPFUL LIST FOR SPOTTING INFATUATED STUDENTS**
> 
> Symptoms of a crush 
> 
> 1\. Staying back to ask questions that can be easily found in textbooks  
> 2\. Requesting private after-class sessions   
> 3\. Daydreaming in your direction   
> 4\. Finds you funnier than you actually are  
> 5\. Smiles adoringly at you while you lecture   
> 6\. Eager when you approach them  
> 7\. Stands very close to you/leans towards you  
> 8\. Brings friends who do not attend the class to sit through your lesson 
> 
> Things to do to dissuade their crushes 
> 
> 1\. Pretend to not notice, do not treat them differently from other students unless it gets too bad. How bad is too bad? Ask Draco!!!  
> 2\. Confine topics of discussion to school related questions only. Do not talk about yourself or your life!  
> 3\. Guide them to resources instead for school related questions  
> 4\. Encourage them to practice  
> 5\. Encourage peer coaching  
> 6\. Defensive body language  
> 7\. Do not be alone with them and if you have to, make sure that the doors are open  
> 8\. Do not accept gifts in any forms 

> **_Correspondence between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy_ **
> 
> 3 December 2012 
> 
> As usual, I enjoyed our Wednesday dinner. Shall we have Indian food next week for a change? 
> 
> I am going on a date tomorrow and I have been planning very hard for it. I am very excited! I am going to hit them with surprise so hard that they'll fall over. 
> 
> xx
> 
> * * *
> 
> xx 
> 
> Indian food sounds good. Been a while since we had it. I'll buy the coconut milk and chicken? 
> 
> Your date sounds like it'll be very violent. Can't believe that they agreed to go out with you at all. Do you need help from your wardrobe consultant? 
> 
> Draco 
> 
> * * *
> 
> Draco 
> 
> Don't be an arse. Would chicken tikka masala be good? If yes, you can bring the plain yogurt and boneless chicken thighs. I have all the spices in the kitchen. 
> 
> I'll run my date over with the force of my excitement. To be honest, I can't believe that they agreed to go out with me either. We used to be enemies at school and they even called me obscene just a few months ago. It's a bit of an uphill battle but we're really good together. They're quite funny in a mean sort of way. I'm starting to get the nerves thinking about how I absolutely can't fuck it up, to be honest. 
> 
> Thanks for the styling offer, but I've already gotten Hermione's help. Was worried that you'd tell my date what I'll be wearing. xxxxxxxxx
> 
> * * *
> 
> xxxxxxxxx
> 
> You are not supposed to hold that against me!! Yes, I'm already excited for next Wednesday. If Hogwarts doesn't work out, you can always be a chef. I should always be able to get a table because I’m Draco Malfoy. Apparently that’s worth a bit of salt these days. Funny. 
> 
> Potter, I worry for your date. They seem too nice to die like this. But honestly, being enemies when you were both in school? That would mean that you guys have been a part of each others' lives (for better or worse) for more than twenty years. If you're at the stage of going on dates, I don't think that it'll go too badly. I happen to think that you're perfectly sincere in a bumbly, endearing sort of manner and that can be quite charming. They'd be silly to not enjoy the date tomorrow! 
> 
> Anyway, I wouldn't have told them what you were wearing but I can see why you would worry. I'm getting more and more excited about your date! It's almost like I'm going on it too. 
> 
> Draco x 
> 
> * * *
> 
> 4 December 2012 
> 
> Draco x 
> 
> I’ll be seeing my date later in Grimmauld at six fifty!! 
> 
> xxxxxxxxx 
> 
> * * *

Harry sipped his wine, watching as candlelight contoured Draco's high cheekbones. The warm glow was dancing across Draco form as he gestured while talking about the shenanigans the Slytherins had got up to in their last trip to a ski resort. 

Reaching across the table to catch one of Draco's moving hands, Harry smiled shamelessly when Draco stopped talking to gape at him. 

"So what did Pansy do?" He prompted fondly as Draco cheeks started to colour. 

"Er, Pansy-" Draco said before returning to look at their hands in disbelief. 

"Yeah?" 

"Pansy said—er-" Draco attempted unsuccessfully, having lost his entire train of thought, flushing harder when Harry started to smooth his thumb across the back of his hand. 

"I think that Pansy's a lot more eloquent than that." 

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry in disapproval. Harry held on tighter when he tried to pull away. 

"Well, Pansy's not only a lot more eloquent, but also a lot more violent. She'd beat you up for your obvious machinations." 

Harry sighed with faux helplessness, "I thought that I was going to be the violent one on this date, but it seems like you're stealing my only role." 

"Well, you can always be the obnoxious one. It comes so naturally to you," Draco tried to remove his hand again when the waiter arrived with their dessert. "Are we really going to be the couple that has to hold hands even during meals?" He asked when the waiter left. 

"Well, are we? You were withholding a second date, so I can’t speak about the coupling bit just yet." 

Draco stared at him incredulously, lips twitching from the force of controlling his laughter. He compensated by making a show of focusing on his mille crêpe. 

Slicing a bit with his fork, he moaned at the first bite. "So good, _mm_ ," he shook his head in amazement, pausing when he noticed Harry staring at him. "Aren't you going to eat your dessert?"

"My hand's a bit occupied right now," he gestured to where their hands were linked. 

"Well, if you didn't have to be so embarrassing you wouldn't be in this predicament. You can consider releasing me, or using your left hand," Draco raised an unimpressed brow. 

" _Or_ , you could feed me." 

Draco's jaw fell apart incredulously. "I'd quite rather choke you, thank you very much!" His neck started to flush as he looked at the tables around them in scandalised shock. . 

"There's always time for that later," Harry beamed at Draco for the opportunity at all. 

"Potter, you're really," he paused exasperatedly to search for the right words. "You're really a whole level apart and then some."

"Might be a Harry Potter thing," he said wryly. 

Draco nodded in agreement. "You were always great at being insufferable even at school. Here," he offered a bite of his dessert to Harry. 

Harry blinked at the suddenness, and the unexpected success of his teasing. 

Draco's brows knotted at his hesitation, lips slightly pursed as he pulled his hand back. Harry leapt across the table to grab his hand and swallow the morsel in a smooth motion. 

"It's good," Harry said appreciatively after a while as he squeezed Draco's hand softly. 

"Of course it is," Draco recovered quickly, rolling his eyes as he forked another bit for himself. "I ordered it after all." 

"And your decisions are _always_ right?" Harry hinted heavily as he leaned in to Draco's outstretched hand. 

"Obviously." 

"Then we both know the outcome of this date already, don't we?" 

"I don't put out on the first date, Potter. So don’t even bother using that voice on me." 

"I’ll save it for our second date then," Harry smiled brightly as he opened his mouth for Draco’s fork.. 

"That's cute," Draco mirrored his smile before he slapped the bit of cake into the corner of Harry's mouth instead, viciously spreading it with the back of his fork while Harry looked at the ceiling with heavy resignation. 

\- 

"That's where I usually get the groceries for Wednesday," Draco pointed out as they walked down the street, their interlocked hands tucked into the pocket of his coat. 

"It's a lot smaller than I expected," Harry said as he looked at the shop across the road. 

"Yeah, I was sure that they had an extension charm until I _tested_ it one day," Draco said conspiratorially. "Oh, that’s the kebab store owner that likes me. You wouldn’t believe how big they are,” he beamed at Harry. 

Harry felt his heart ache from the sheer fondness he was experiencing. He squeezed Draco's hand tightly for want of an outlet to convey his emotions. 

"Oh, the laundromat—makes me grateful to have magic. People are so chatty in there for some reason," he shuddered as he quickened his pace. 

"Are you sure?" Harry asked as he tried to linger and peer into the shop. "That's not my experience with them." 

"Don't even look," Draco insisted as he tried to pull Harry along. 

"Look, nobody's talking in there," Harry insisted as he pointed at the two people sitting on the benches. 

"Well, obviously they wouldn't be when you're bloody staring," he said impatiently. "Come on, there's still the café that I got the rainbow cakes from." 

Harry finally relented as he trudged along with the tour of Draco's neighbourhood in Chelsea. As the cold wind blew into his face, Harry quickly ran through the list he had made to impress Draco—he only had two more items to go, and he was reluctant for the night to end. He smiled sadly as Draco continued sharing excitedly about the bits of his life and the parts that Harry had had the fortune to glimpse in the few months of their friendship. 

"This is where I get flowers for Mother," Draco gestured at a quaint little shop with cursive letterings on its windows. 

Harry took in the homey layout with a frown. "Aren’t there enough flowers right outside her house?" 

Draco tugged at his hand sharply. "How would you know? Merlin, did you stay-" he cut himself off as he motioned for Harry to continue with his eyes. 

"At The Quiet? Yeah, recently," 

" _Recently!_ That's what they're contractually bound to say!" He threw up his hand in frustration. "Oh I'm so curious, it's killing me. All this privacy business," he shook his head in frustration.

"I had a great time there," Harry said as he bumped his shoulder against Draco's in an attempt to comfort. The arrangements for The Quiet had been bound by robust nondisclosure agreements between the proprietor and the lodger. 

"Harry James Potter, do you permit the proprietor to disclose details of your stay at the property to Draco Lucius Malfoy?" Draco said gravely. 

"Erm, yes I do.” 

"Thanks," Draco said as he stowed his wand away. "I'll extract Mother’s agreement and then I'll be updated. How did you even come across the property?" 

"Hermione's colleague recommended it to her, and she passed it along," Harry said with a shrug. 

"I can't imagine Ron and Hermione shagging under the same roof as Mother," Draco said darkly as they continued to walk again.

"Well, at least you wouldn't know when it happens." 

"Which isn’t a good thing either," Draco shook his head in disagreement. "I'm torn between wanting to know and not wanting to. Did you wank under the same roof as Mother?" He asked suddenly. 

Harry stared at him in disbelief. 

"If you stayed long enough, you probably did. You're a proper wanker," Draco said as he narrowed his eyes at him in consideration. 

"Have _you_ wanked under the same roof as your mother?" Harry asked with an eye roll. 

"I'm a growing boy, Harry. Were you a growing boy?" 

"Not quite. I'm more of a show-er boy." He burst into laughter when Draco shoved him into the display window of a shop. 

"Mind my delicate sensibilities, Potter. I hope that you didn't speak to Mother like this." 

"Of course I didn't," he said. "I didn't! I was very well behaved!" He insisted when Draco looked at him skeptically. "Can we talk about something sexier? Or whatever you do in that shop? I can't bear this sort of talk when we're going to part so soon," he begged. 

"Fine," Draco finally relented after staring at him for a bit longer. "I've gotten a few books for Mother from the next shop." 

Harry allowed himself to be pulled away in the wintery cold, happy to be with Draco even just for a while more. 

\- 

"Well, this is me," Draco said, releasing Harry's hand as he pointed at the townhouse behind them after they had visited a few more streets. 

"Oh," Harry said disappointedly as he took in the wide red bricked three storey building with a small dome in the middle of the roof. 

"My great great great great great grandfather won this from a bet in a Gentleman's Club in the 1600s. It's been with our family since." 

Harry whipped his head back to look at Draco in disbelief. "You're not pulling my leg, are you? Was anyone living in it then? What happened to them?"

"Why would I do that?" Draco scrunched his nose in distaste. "But yes, there was. The leases continued beyond the change in ownership, of course. We don’t evict people for fun,” he said coldly. 

"I didn't mean that. I asked because I was evicted on a half day’s notice in Cairo." Harry explained desperately as he tugged at Draco's folded arms. "I didn't have much to pack, but I was homeless for three days." 

"You could have stayed in a hotel," Draco's shoulders loosened even though he continued to hold his hands in an akimbo. 

"I did, but it was still harrowing," Harry pouted for maximum effect. 

"Poor Potter," Draco finally exhaled in laughter, stepping forward to tuck a loose curl behind Harry's left ear. 

Harry keened at the unexpected curling pleasure that shot through him when Draco brushed his hand across his concealed soulmark. "Did you feel that?" He questioned as he grabbed Draco's wrist. 

"The glamour you have at your lower temple?" Draco asked in confusion as he tried to pull his hand away. 

"No, the resonance!" He said impatiently as he tried to think about his first words with Draco. _Had it been the train? No, it had been earlier—Madam Malkin's in Diagon Alley. No wonder his soulmate didn't recognise Harry Potter! No wonder he was red marked! What else could it have been with him and Draco?_

"The resonance? Har-" he was cut off as Harry stepped up and crashed his lips against his. 

It was unlike any kiss that either of them had had, the bone-deep rush of magic rushing through their bodies as if released from a dam where it had been waiting so long for. Harry felt the recognition of their soulbond in his magical core, the magic desperate and hungry to bond with Draco. He moaned, rutting into Draco when Draco cupped his face, the pad of his thumb pressing into his mark. Draco's lips were soft and gentle even while his tongue was hungry and feverish.

Harry couldn’t breathe, his body was buzzing, and his mind was a complete mush. He circled his hands around Draco's waist as he pulled him closer, won't to even be an inch apart. The world fell away as their mouths continued to move against each other. 

Draco pushed him back gently, and Harry finally extracted himself, his heart a frenzied beat while the bond vibrated between them like a ready spell. 

"It's always been you," Draco said wondrously as they caught their breaths, his eyes completely black from lust.

Harry snapped out of his giddiness when Draco suddenly slapped him at the side of his head. 

"How dare you make me a worder! Do you know how often people say _‘yes’_?" He accused suddenly as he jabbed his long, pointy finger against Harry's shoulder. 

"I did?" Harry said guiltily as he pressed his face into the curve of Draco's neck shamefully. "I didn't even know what soulmarks were when I was eleven. I'm so sorry." 

Draco sighed noisily as the fight left his body. "You're really my Achilles heel. Let's go in, shall we?" 

"Is that where—oh-" Harry paused on the steps when the wards sang to him. "Oh," he said in understanding as he pet them with his magic. _No wonder the wards at The Quiet_ — _that had last been configured by Draco_ — _called out to him. There had been so many clues that he had missed._

"Stop molesting my wards already," Draco complained as he unlocked his door.

"Can't help it if it likes me," Harry grinned as he accepted the offered hand, gaping when he entered. "Your parlour is obscene!" 

"It really is," Draco shook his head as he unwound his scarf. "It does get a bit lonely sometimes," he said as he gave Harry a dirty look. 

Harry could only pout in response, resigned the prospect of being reminded of having worded Draco for the rest of his life. “So where’s your mark,” he asked once more in a barefaced attempt to change the topic.

“The most clichéd place ever,” Draco said, bustling around as he started the fire and headed for the bar trolley in the corner. “One finger?” He offered as he raised a decanter.

“Erm, none for me, thanks. It’s a big day and I want to-” he waved his hand at his head in general. “Sober and all.” 

Draco seemed to consider his words before filling two glasses with water. Floating it to the polished coffee table, he walked slowly towards Harry. 

He peeled off his left sock and placed the bridge of his foot on Harry’s thigh. He held onto Harry’s shoulder for balance. “It’s literally on my left heel _—_ my Achilles heel.” 

Harry looked at the pale foot with the red _‘Yes.’_ in his awful inky quill chicken scratch. He trailed his finger across it gently, immediately grabbing Draco when he almost fell over. 

“So that’s how resonance feels like,” Draco said shyly when Harry pulled him onto his lap and held him close.

Harry nodded as he looked at Draco’s legs intently. “I’ve torn my Achilles tendon four times—the left one,” he clarified. He wondered about the coincidences that they had yet to uncover. 

“It hurt so bad during the reveal,” Draco said as he looped his hand around Harry’s neck. “I fell over and broke my nose, and I thought _“I’ll kick their nose in when I meet them’,”_ he laughed as he traced the slope of Harry’s nose fondly.

“Karma really does go round, doesn’t it?” Harry joked, flailing when Draco pinched his nose roughly. 

“I’ll kill you if you dump me,” Draco said non-sequitur, breaking the silence as he rubbed Harry’s soulmark forcefully. 

Harry rolled his eyes as he pushed Draco’s hand away. He needed to focus, not be manipulated by his soulmate. “Not if I strangle you first for holding your soulmark against me all the time.”

“Oh, but that’s your fault,” Draco smirked at him as they wrestled to keep his hand away from his face. 

“It really is,” Harry sighed, finally releasing Draco’s hand as he leaned in to press their lips together. They had circled each other’s lives for more than twenty years—from insults, taunts, pranks, injuries, scars, opposing factions during a war, countless saving of each other’s life, to colleagues, friends and then finally lovers—they had defined each other throughout. Harry had pushed himself to search the world for so long, but Draco had finally come to him when he was ready, when he had stopped forcing for an answer and learnt to trust himself. 

It had taken a while, but he was finally home.

* * *

> **_List written by Harry Potter_ **
> 
> **Steps to make Draco ask me out** **ON A SECOND DATE**

> 1\. Dress nicely (Hermione)  
> 2\. Good hair (Hermione)  
> 3\. Cologne  
> 4\. Punctual  
> 5\. Praise Draco  
> 6\. Plan the date out, from dinner then what next  
> 7\. Drop him off at his house  
> 8\. Say that I had a good time  
> 9\. Kiss him very quickly  
> 10\. Run off  
> 11\. Write a nice letter  
> 12\. Follow up on Saturday  
> 13\. Force him if he doesn’t!!!! :(

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to write a first words soulmark fic for Drarry. I'm grateful for the opportunity! 
> 
> Please point out any mistakes! I'd be deeply appreciative!!


End file.
